


At the Edges

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura & Keith (Voltron) Friendship, Allura & Shiro (Voltron) Friendship, Artist Keith (Voltron), Established Relationship, M/M, POV Allura (Voltron), Post Season/Series 07, Season 8 Doesn't Exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 22:39:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17733986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: “You’re asking me how to be friends with Keith,” Shiro says.“I suppose I am,” Allura agrees. “… I thought you’d be the best to ask. After all, who knows Keith better than you?”Or: Allura takes initiative, Shiro plays friendship matchmaker, and Keith just rolls with it.





	At the Edges

**Author's Note:**

> Fic request for someone who'd like to remain anonymous. They asked for Keith and Allura friendship following s7, with established sheith. I had a blast getting a chance to write from Allura's POV. Thank you for the request. ♥ 
> 
> And once again, thank you to Spooky for reading this over and for general cheerleading.

“And,” she says, stooping down in front of a vendor’s table of wares, “what sort of creature is this?” 

“That’s a dragonfruit,” Shiro explains as Allura drags her fingertip over the waxy edge of the red fruit. 

“Is it something Keith would like?” she asks. She tells herself that it doesn’t bother her that she doesn’t know for sure, that she even has to wonder. 

That’s the reason for Shiro’s visit to the marketplace, at least: a desire to find some food that’s non-hospital mandated for Keith. Keith, unlike the rest of the paladins, is still on strict bedrest. Where the others can stray from their beds, and Allura’s Altean strength allows her to even leave the hospital grounds, Keith is still tied to his room. She can only guess how unhappy he is about that.

“Hm,” Shiro hums. “I’m not sure if he’s ever had it. But dragonfruit’s better mixed with other fruits.” The vendor before them huffs a little, as if insulted. Shiro looks up at him and says, “I’m sure yours is very delicious, though.” 

They keep moving along, stopping occasionally so Shiro can explain another strange piece of Earthling food. The path opens wider and Allura settles in beside Shiro. 

Shiro adds, “If you see something you like, too, let me know. I’ve got plenty of credits.”

“Oh,” Allura says, taken aback and then smiling. “Of course. Thank you.” 

She ends up sampling a few of Earth’s foods— an apple, for starters, but also dark chocolate, almond butter, and ketchup. Her favorite is what’s called an artichoke. Shiro claims it tastes better cooked, but Allura likes the prickly points of its leaves. 

Shiro ends up bartering for some sort of soup for Keith and it’s brothy and steaming as the vendor snaps a lid over it and hands it over in a bag. Shiro looks pleased. 

“Want to keep looking? Maybe we should get some for the others…” He laughs. “I’m sure Hunk will critique whatever we bring him, though.” 

Allura laughs, too, and they keep searching together. They end up wandering away from the makeshift food court, though, and into the non-perishable vendors. There are cups and model rockets and scarves. There are children ducking between stalls, shouting and chasing each other, hapless parents following after them. Everything is so alive, so vibrant despite the hardship the planet faced. Something squeezes in Allura’s chest, something sweet and melancholy. A quiet longing she stuffs down again. 

They stop in front of a stall with various ceramics. The vendor is busy talking with the vendor set up next to hers and doesn’t pay them much attention. Allura smiles at a cup shaped like a mouse, wide ears and stubby nose. Shiro tests the handles on a few others, picking them up and setting them back down, as if he were drinking from them. 

“Keith might like this one,” Shiro says, softly, to himself. Allura knew already he was thinking of Keith, could tell just by the way his eyes turned soft, the curve of his smile. The cup he’s holding has cartoon animals chasing each other— cats and dogs, she recognizes. 

She frowns, trying to picture Keith drinking from such a mug. The image seems incongruous and it only emphasizes how little she knows. She turns back to the cup shaped like a mouse. 

It’s as good an opening as she’s going to get, she thinks. She swallows. 

“It must be nice,” she says, quiet, “to know someone like Keith so deeply. To be his friend… to have his friendship.” Shiro hums, although it’s a quieter sound, thoughtful. Allura swallows again and continues, “I wonder… how someone could go about it.” 

She tries to say it subtly, but she knows she hasn’t succeeded when she glances over at Shiro and finds him studying her closely. She doesn’t blush and doesn’t fumble— refuses to, really— but instead she sets the mouse cup down and turns towards Shiro, biting her lip. 

“Allura?” 

“Shiro,” Allura says, voice low. “I must admit that I, perhaps, had an ulterior motive when I asked to accompany you here.”

“I’m getting that impression,” Shiro agrees. He doesn’t sound bothered by it, just gives her a small smile. “What’s on your mind?”

Now that she’s presented with the opportunity, she isn’t sure how to proceed. It feels damnably childish to her, really. But then again, she’s never been one to back down. 

“I… You know that I consider all of you to be very dear to me,” Allura says. 

Shiro nods. “Of course. We know that.” 

She smiles. “I know. That isn’t my concern. I…” She sighs. “I feel silly.” 

“Go on,” Shiro tells her, all undivided attention now. “Whatever you want to ask me, you can.” 

Allura nods and presses onward. Her words feel sticky in her mouth, a struggle to find the right way to phrase it all. “I consider you all… something like a family. After everything we’ve been through and all that we’ve seen— you’re all very… important.” 

She pauses and Shiro studies her before his expression softens, gentle and sympathetic. He nods. “Allura. You know we all feel that way, too. None of us would be here without you.” 

“I only… I know that Keith and I have had some— contention in the past.” She refuses to fidget or fiddle. She holds herself strong, even though her feet are starting to ache from standing for so long. She feels a little winded, still recovering from so many injuries, a crash into an ocean. “I… after everything that happened here, it made me realize how important everyone is. But that… perhaps, I’d neglected some friendships more than others.” 

She doesn’t know how to put it into words, that fear— the knowledge that she’s already lost so much and could so easily lose everything else, too. It’s the last thing she wants. It’s reassuring, at least, to know it’s something no one else wants, too. She trusts Shiro’s words, just as she trusts all the Paladins— all her friends. 

“You’re asking me how to be friends with Keith,” Shiro says, as if only now realizing. 

“I suppose I am,” Allura agrees, relieved he understands. “… I thought you’d be the best to ask. After all, who knows Keith better than you?”

Shiro doesn’t demur the statement, although his smile is a tentative thing— private, like he’s recalling some joke she isn’t privy to. She doesn’t ask and a moment later, Shiro’s smile turns into something a little more familiar to her. Friendly. 

“We’ve both— we’ve both said things in the past that weren’t the best. I only… I don’t want him to hate me,” Allura continues. 

Shiro blinks at her. “Keith doesn’t hate you.” 

Something squirms in her stomach, anxiety or something like it. She feels absurd. 

“I couldn’t blame him if he did,” she says, after a pause. “Things have not always been the easiest between us, of course. I… Well.” 

“Keith doesn’t hate you,” Shiro says again, quieter this time. He touches her arm and lets it rest there. He squeezes once before dropping it away. 

Relief washes through her, although she’d never admit it. She laughs, looking down. “I see.” 

Shiro’s quiet for a moment, considering. “Keith is…” 

Allura waits as Shiro collects his thoughts. Shiro tips his head to the side, thoughtful. 

“He can be shy. Keith’s tendency is to assume that everyone _else_ assumes the worst in him,” Shiro finally says, contemplating one of the mugs. He rolls it in his hand absently, studying it, and then sets it back down. “So sometimes he’ll close himself off. It’s easy to think he doesn’t care, or he dislikes somebody, but it’s more that he’s… waiting for someone to not care about him first.”

“So I… merely need to tell him I don’t hate him?” 

Shiro laughs. “No. No, I think it’s better if you’re just— honest.” He shrugs. “It’s the boring answer but it’s the true answer. Keith values honesty. You can just tell him what you told me just now.” 

“Is it really so simple?” 

“Hey,” Shiro says with a helpless smile. “Not everything has to be a fight to the death in sentient robot lions or bringing your friend back from the dead, you know? Sometimes just telling somebody you want to be his friend is enough.” 

Allura laughs. “I… must admit I hadn’t considered that.” 

She’d somehow convinced herself this conversation would be more difficult, the task insurmountable. It hadn’t occurred to her that things could be so simple. 

Shiro smiles, lopsided and sweet, and then his expression lightens up around a thought. “I know. Come on. We can go right now.” 

“W— Right now?” 

“Why not?” Shiro asks. He picks up the mouse cup that Allura’d been eyeing, leaves some money for the vendor, and starts herding Allura towards the entrance to the marketplace and back towards the hospital. Once they leave, he hands her the mug to put into her bag and says, “Come on. It’ll make Keith happy. I promise.”

Allura tries to picture how anything she could do or say could possibly make Keith happy. It seems unlikely, much less so when Shiro is right there beside her. Still, she trusts Shiro, and she trusts Shiro to know Keith better than most, in the end, so she doesn’t protest as they head back towards the hospital. 

 

-

 

Keith’s drifting a bit when they get to his room. Allura lingers in the doorway, unsure despite it all. She isn’t nervous, not something quite so simple. Keith shifts a little and lets out a soft puff of breath— awake, then. 

Allura watches Shiro cross to the side of the bed, hand lifting to brush the hair away from Keith’s forehead. His other hand hovers towards the table next to Keith’s bed, setting down the bag with the soup. He dips down and presses a kiss to his forehead just as Keith opens his eyes and looks up at him with a small smile.

“Hey, baby,” Shiro greets. 

“Hey,” Keith answers, voice raspy and sleep-thick. He tips his chin up and lifts towards Shiro, who swoops in to press a kiss to his mouth. It’s simple, easy, and intimate— Allura looks away for a moment, feeling as if even this is an intrusion. 

It isn’t that Keith and Shiro hide their relationship. Far from it. But it isn’t that they flaunt it, either. It’s simply something the two of them exist in— not a reaction to anybody else or in consideration of anybody else, but for each other. In these moments, even if it’s just as simple as a kiss to the forehead, it’s a world built between the two of them. She’s the one looking in, and it isn’t a matter of them caring or not caring: it isn’t a factor at all. 

“You okay?” Keith asks once they part from their kiss. It’s an almost laughable question, considering which of the two is currently in a hospital bed, but Shiro merely gives him an entirely too gentle smile. 

“I’m good, babe. Better now that I get to look at you.” 

Keith snorts. “Sap.” 

“Maybe.” 

She’s held Shiro’s soul within her own body. Only for a moment perhaps, only a vessel used to transport from one spot to another, but sometimes she still feels echoes of it all. Sometimes, she sees the way Shiro looks at Keith and understands exactly what he doesn’t say, almost as if she were the one to think it instead. It’s a strangely intrusive feeling, one that never sits right with her. None of this is meant for her. Looking at them, she feels the echo of what Shiro must be feeling, overfull with love and affection. 

But still, it isn’t that Shiro’s forgotten about her, either. 

“You have a visitor,” Shiro tells Keith.

Keith doesn’t even bother to look around, too busy smiling up at Shiro. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Shiro laughs. “Besides me.” 

“Who, then?” He seems unwilling to look away from him. Finally, though, he does drag his eyes away from Shiro’s face, his fingertips lingering at Shiro’s jaw all the same. “Is it my m— Oh.” He looks surprised, blinking once, and then goes to sit up properly, his hand dropping away from Shiro’s face. “Allura.” 

He isn’t closed off, but his manner changes entirely— goes from open and affectionate to something more neutral. It’s startling, that sudden switch. 

“Hey,” Keith says. “Shiro told me you were off bedrest. That’s good.” 

“Ah,” Allura says, eyes skittering towards Shiro. He raises his eyebrows at her, encouraging. She smiles. “Yes, I’m doing better now… It seems you’re making improvements, too. I’m glad for that.” 

“Yeah,” Keith answers.

Silence falls, heavy and judgmental over Allura’s shoulders. She isn’t sure what else to say.

“So, oh,” Shiro says, as if he’s remembered something. It’s an incredibly bad acting job. “I remember I’m supposed to visit Hunk this afternoon. I should go check on him.” 

“What? Shiro—” Keith starts.

“I know I promised,” Shiro says, apologetic. “But I have to… uh. You know. You can draw Allura instead, though.” 

Allura and Keith both startle, surprised. Shiro seizes this opportunity to swoop in and press a goodbye kiss to Keith’s mouth. He pulls back and makes a quick exit, winking at Allura as he passes. Allura watches him go, blinking. 

“He’s such a bad liar,” Keith mutters. 

Allura turns back to face Keith. “What did he mean… draw me?” 

She watches Keith’s cheeks turn pink and Allura cautiously approaches. She grabs a chair positioned near the window and drags it to sit at his bedside. He hasn’t told her to go, and she trusts Shiro— if he says Keith doesn’t hate her, then she isn’t one to back down from what she’s decided she wants. 

Keith holds up his hand, bandaged at the wrist. “The doctors said I should do small tasks to help with my hand’s dexterity and keep it from weakening while I’m here. I’ve been drawing Shiro.” 

She remembers, of course, Keith trying to draw during Bob’s entire stunt. She frowns thoughtfully, trying to picture how Keith would render Shiro. 

“I see.” 

They sit for a moment. Allura isn’t sure of the protocol here. Keith seems equally as unsure, looking at her and then down at his hand. 

“… You don’t have to draw me,” Allura says. “If you’d rather wait for Shiro to be done with whatever he’s doing.” 

“It’s fine,” Keith says, twisting and pulling open the drawer beside his bed. He fishes out a sketchbook and a small stub of a pencil. He blushes as he turns back towards her. “You, uh, don’t really have to be drawn if you don’t want. I know it’s weird.”

“I don’t mind,” Allura says. “Truthfully, I’ve been on my feet all morning… I wouldn’t mind a chance to simply sit and rest, if that’s alright.” 

“Yeah. I don’t mind. This dumb place is mind-numbing. I go a little crazy if I don’t have something to do.”

“I feel much the same,” Allura agrees. “I keep trying to sneak in ways to work but Coran keeps catching me.”

Keith laughs. “Yeah. Me too, only with Shiro or my mom. Even the wolf refuses to transport me out of here.” 

“But drawing helps?” 

“A little, I guess.”

“Is it alright if I look?” Allura asks. Then adds, quickly, “You can say no.”

But Keith just hands it over wordlessly. He doesn’t speak until she has the sketchbook in her lap, “They’re not good. Just so you know.”

Allura doesn’t answer and, instead, opens the sketchbook. There are a few pages where the lines on the page are just shapes or gestures, the start of a hand or the sharp lines of a window or door. She’s almost envious of even that much, considering her own lack of drawing skill, but she’s always admired the ability in others. 

She takes her time, flipping between each page. Eventually, she reaches the Shiro pages—  
blobbed and amorphous to start, just the hint of a quick gesture drawing or a vague shape that might be Shiro sitting at the foot of Keith’s bed. 

Eventually, though, there are the portraits. They’re far from masterful— it’s clear that Keith’s still a beginner. 

Still, the more the pages flip, the sharper into focus the drawings of Shiro become. Some of them look off in places— ears too small, nose crooked, eyes too wide apart. But they’re all Shiro, that much is true, and they’re all of Shiro smiling— eyes looking up straight from the page. Meeting Keith’s eyes as he draws him. 

Keith captures that part best of all, the way Shiro looks at him. 

She finds herself speaking the words before she’s even fully aware she’s doing so, looking down at the last image of Shiro, “He cares for you a great deal.”

She looks up to find Keith watching her, eyes dark and considering. Then a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he looks back towards the door to the hospital room, at the spot Shiro once occupied, something softening on his face. 

“He loves me,” Keith says, almost casual. “I love him.” 

She marvels for a moment at the ease with which he says it, the surety of his smile, there and gone again before his expression turns into something more thoughtful. 

She holds out the sketchbook to him. 

“I’m almost jealous,” she admits. Her heart thumps in her chest, that resistance to being vulnerable. Part of her wants to recoil, to curl into herself and protect herself. 

She thinks, perhaps, she sees that same urge in Keith’s eyes as he looks up at her. He nearly drops his sketchbook, looking startled. “What?” 

“Not like that,” she’s quick to say, her cheeks turning pink. “I only mean… being so certain of that. Your feelings.” 

Her voice doesn’t fumble. It doesn’t waver. But after she speaks the words, she feels as if they hover, flinchingly, in the air between them. She wants to snatch them back. She wants to snatch herself away, protect herself against how much she’s left herself exposed. 

Keith frowns, eyebrows pinching together. She feels, for a moment, as if he is studying her. But maybe it’s simply looking into a mirror— he shifts, shoulders tensing and loosening, his expression opening slowly, as if fully letting himself look. 

“I wasn’t,” he finally says. His voice is just as soft as Allura’s, just as uncertain. He studies her face, as if searching for a reason to pull the words back into himself. “Always sure, I mean.” 

“Of how he felt?”

He nods, cautious. “Yeah.” 

She isn’t sure what to say. She takes a breath. It feels like a step, and yet a step she isn’t sure she’s earned to take. It feels like she’s being tested. 

“So, uh,” Keith says, once the moment stretches between them. “Drawing you. Just… sit in a pose you want, okay?” 

“Is like this alright?” Allura asks, positioning herself into a straighter posture in the chair, eyes looking towards the window.

“Yeah, that’s good.”

Allura thinks, as she sits, about the weight of a soul, what makes up the essence of a person. She thinks of how that weight can go so unnoticed until it must be quantified. She remembers holding two souls within herself, the startling difference between them both, how holding Shiro’s soul within her meant, for a moment, housing everything— being in two places at once. She was Allura but, for a moment, she was a displaced Shiro. She remembers the way it felt, to look at the other paladins as both Allura and as Shiro, to kneel before a dying, cloned body and recognize it as self and not self. 

She remembers the way it felt to let him go, the way it felt to watch Shiro breathe on his own and fall into Keith’s arms, the way Shiro looked up at Keith as if Keith held the universe. It’d been like nails scratching down her spine, an echo of a soul she held only for a moment and yet felt for a lifetime. 

Keith doesn’t need her to reassure him, and it isn’t hers to tell, regardless— the echoes of feelings she holds are someone else’s. Still, the urge is there, to reassure him all the same, to tell him that there was never a need for doubt, that Shiro had always been aching to reach out to him. She knows she doesn’t need to say that. Still, she feels tested— and she wonders if she passed. 

She thinks of the look on Shiro’s face as he looked down at the cup in his hands, turning it slowly, admiring the cat and dog designs. His smile had been private, a little joke he’d likely share with Keith later. 

Keith and Allura sit in silence again— but this time, it’s a steadier silence, something more comfortable. Keith is focused and Allura has a task. It works for them both. The room is filled only with the sound of Keith’s pencil scratching across the page. He grumbles once and a page turns as he starts anew. 

“Too used to Shiro,” Keith mutters, and he sounds embarrassed. When she isn’t looking at him, only listening to the rasp of his voice, Allura realizes that Keith’s far easier to read than she’d originally thought. 

She thinks of what Shiro told her, in the market. 

“Keith,” she says, “I’d like for us to be friends.”

He gives her a vaguely startled look and nearly drops his pencil. “Uh.”

She’s determined to be a good model for his drawing and refuses to move to look at him, staring steadfastly out the window, chin tipped upward. 

“I know we’ve been through a lot, but I respect you as the leader of Voltron now and as a fellow paladin. But most of all, I respect you as a person.” 

“Okay,” Keith says, voice quiet. If she weren’t so sure of his mannerisms by now, she’d almost fear he was dismissing her. But, perhaps, it’s as Shiro says— a particular shyness he doesn’t quite reveal. “I, uh… you know. Yeah.”

“Really?” she asks, surprised. Perhaps it really is that simple. 

“Sure,” Keith says. “I mean… we kinda already are friends, right?” There’s something tentative in his voice, uncertain but willing to keep pushing. Keith is nothing if not stubborn, she thinks. “I mean. We all are, aren’t we?” 

This time she does turn towards him. He’s frowning down at his paper, shading with the edge of his pencil, his cheeks red. She sees it for the offering it is and some of the tension eases from her shoulders. 

She laughs. “Yes. I suppose we are.” 

Keith smiles at her, something soft in his eyes. Then he looks back down and focuses on his drawing. 

“I suppose it can be that easy,” Allura says. 

Keith laughs. “No sentient robots fighting to the death here.”

Allura laughs. “Shiro said the same thing.”

“He would.” It’s far more affectionate than scathing. “You two… talked about this?” 

“… Yes. He told me you would value the honest approach.”

“Did he,” Keith says, not quite a question at all. He smiles, a moment later, as he drags his pencil over the paper, his eyes warming. 

He pauses and then seems satisfied. He looks up at her, gripping the sketchbook.

“Okay. Warning… it’s not great.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be lovely,” Allura assures him. 

Keith flips the sketchbook around so she can see what he drew. It’s a short sketch, messy at the edges, and it’s clear he isn’t used to drawing her the way he is Shiro. It looks like her, but not a perfect recreation. But she likes the way he’s captured her face, the slope of her nose and the curl of her hair around her jaw. 

She smiles. “Thank you, Keith.” 

“Ha,” Keith breathes out, a self-deprecating laugh. He closes the sketchbook up. “You’re welcome.” 

They sit in the quiet, but it doesn’t feel oppressive. Allura meets Keith’s eye and they smile at one another, perhaps tentative but hopeful. It occurs to Allura, in that moment, that perhaps she wasn’t the only one wishing for this chance. 

That, somehow, is the biggest relief of all. 

Later, when Shiro pokes his head in, it’s to the sight of Allura holding the mice in her hands as Keith sketches them, lips thinned in a determined line as he tries to do them justice and Allura keeps reminding the mice to hold still. 

“Hey,” he greets them both, looking thrilled to see Allura still there and Keith’s sketchpad in hand. “Did you both have fun?” 

“You’re in trouble,” Keith tells Shiro as he swoops in to kiss him.

“Why?” Shiro asks, grinning, clearly unthreatened. 

“You know why and you’re a bad liar,” Keith tells him and tugs on one of his ears, playful. Shiro laughs. 

“Everything okay here?” he asks, looking first at Keith and then at Allura. He looks the happiest out of the three of them. 

“Yes,” she says. “We’re okay.”

“Great,” Shiro says. He eyes the soup still on the table. “You didn’t eat? Want me to heat that up?”

“It’s absolutely the least you can do,” Keith says, deadpan. He lets out a soft ‘hmph’ but accepts Shiro’s kiss to his temple. He waits until Shiro’s left the room with the soup before looking back at Allura with a tilting smile. “Want something? I can guilt him into getting it.” 

“He already bought me a mug earlier,” Allura says, digging in her bag and pulling out the mouse cup. 

The mice, who’d been examining Keith’s sketch of them while he wasn’t paying attention, perk up and squeak in surprise as they see the mouse cup.

“Ha. It looks like the fat one,” Keith says, amused. The mice squeak up at him, insulted. 

After, when Shiro returns with the soup and Keith eats, the three of them talk and laugh and Allura feels warmer and surer than she ever has before. She even deigns to pat the wolf on the head once he pops back into existence to lick at Keith’s ear. 

Later, still, when she’s getting up to leave, she doesn’t realize until she’s standing how surer she feels, how much less weighted she feels. It’s a relief, she realizes, to have expressed herself, to have put herself on the right page.

“Do you want help back to your room?” Shiro asks, not unkindly. 

“I’m alright. You two rest,” she says. 

“See you tomorrow, Allura,” Keith says and smiles. It’s a tentative thing, but Allura is grateful for it. She beams back and heads to the door. 

It’s only because of her heightened hearing that, as she exits Keith’s hospital room, she hears Shiro murmur, gently, “See, baby? I told you.” 

“Yeah, alright,” she hears Keith answer, something soft in his tone. “You were right. People other than you like me, I guess.” 

She smiles to herself, heartbroken in a way she can’t quite express, and knows she’ll come back tomorrow with non-hospital food and some fresh pencils for Keith to draw with.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> This author replies to comments.
> 
>  
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/stardropdream) // [Dreamwidth](https://stardropdream.dreamwidth.org/)


End file.
